Entry 12

Entry 12

       Why am I even writing this? This doesn’t seem to make much sense.... Does anything? Fuck...

       I’m back at home somehow; I don’t know how I got here, or when. I don’t know what day it is. All I know is leaving that house with... someone in it maybe? Or was I there alone? And then I wake up here, drenched in blood. Did I kill someone? Is it mine? I burned the clothes, just to be sure. My hands were covered in chalk; the same colour as that things ‘face’. I’ve peeled away the skin. God help me.

       I feel as though something is missing. I never remember feeling this paranoid, this insecure or scared. My head is a mess. It feels like someone has removed it, blended it and haphazardly replaced it. I can’t think straight; what was it he said? Stay, leave? This is pointless, I can’t recall.

       I remember.... a figure, with photos, a fireplace; yes! A fireplace; it went out and then darkness; that thing came back. The man gave it a name but I can’t remember it. He told me something important. How to find it; no, how to escape; something to do with Rockwood and those numbers? Did I even tell him about the numbers? Did I even speak to anyone at all; for all I know my mind conjured up some stranger to give me answers that I desire. Were there answers? I don’t remember!

       The slip.... Yes, the slip! I found on me a piece of paper in my jeans. I removed it before burning them. It has coordinates on; I must check. Maybe they lead to my escape from this nightmare. Maybe someone there can fix my head; un-blend it? Give me life again?

       Slenderman was its name; that thing. The man said it was so. I don’t like it; it rings of darkness and despair.

       Hang on.... home isn’t safe, why am I here?